


And They Failed

by seasick_shanty



Category: Bitterblue - Kristin Cashore, Seven Kingdoms Trilogy - Kristin Cashore
Genre: Emetophilia, Gen, M/M, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-28
Updated: 2015-05-28
Packaged: 2018-04-01 15:12:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4024609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seasick_shanty/pseuds/seasick_shanty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Raffin and Bann make a nausea infusion to prevent vomiting. The result is copious amounts of vomiting.</p>
            </blockquote>





	And They Failed

**Author's Note:**

> This is based on pg. 150 of Bitterblue; centered around Raffin and Bann's (failed) nausea infusion.

It was not often that Raffin began a project without first talking it through with Bann, but it was even more of a sight to have Raffin staring manically down at his work, his hands moving feverishly through supplies.

"What are you working on?" Bann asked, unable to contain his curiosity any further.

"It seems my father has a touch of indigestion."

"Yes, what of it?"

"Did you see how he picked at his food? He took cautionary measures in choosing to eat the blandest of foods provided to him."

"If you noticed all this, why didn't you inquire upon it?"

"And incur Randa's wrath and feel his heated gaze all through dinner? No thank you."

Raffin tinkered with several vials in silence, turning some every which way and adding drops here and there. Finally, he poured everything together and stared at it dubiously. 

"What are you doing?" Bann asked again.

"If I can create a concoction to cure, or even reduce, his nausea," Raffin said, never once taking his eyes off the drink before him, "then I'll be Father's favorite again."

Bann snorted. "You are his only son. How can you not be his favorite?"

Here, Raffin looked up, an air of annoyance plainly visible in his raised eyebrow.

"Certainly you know of whom you are speaking."

"You're an incorrigible idiot, you know that?"

Raffin smiled.

When Raffin was complete, he took the vial and swished the liquid inside. "It's finished."

"How do you know it'll work?"

"I never give anything to anyone unless I first know of its effectiveness." At Bann's quizzical stare, Raffin added, "I test it on myself of course. Are you, by chance, feeling nauseated, Bann?"

Bann swallowed. "I admit I'm feeling a bit queasy just thinking about it."

"Perfect."

\--

Raffin sat beside his father at dinner, drowning out his insufferable bragging, as per usual. Raffin picked at his food, not particularly interested in it this evening. His mind was currently preoccupied with other things, things that were not appropriate for dinnertime discussion. Or rather, anytime discussion if he was to become king. If only Randa knew what he did in the privacy of his own bedchambers.

He sighed, his stomach making a nauseous gurgling as he thought about the consequences. He put a hand to his stomach, a gesture he was grateful was concealed by the large table before him.

The meal continued as per usual, an affair not escaped by Raffin. His father talked little of him and even less to him, for which Raffin was obliged, considering how awful he had been feeling throughout the course of dinner. Once, when his glass was being refilled with more wine, Raffin found himself having to turn away to avoid losing it all over his dinner plate. He was suddenly stricken with a headache that only worsened with the commotion around him.

"Raffin?"

At the sound of his name, the noise began to die down, but all Raffin really heard was the pounding happening between his ears. He let out a soft moan.

"Lord Prince, are you all right?"

Raffin turned to the source of the voice. It was Randa.

"My apologies," he said after taking a moment to collect his thoughts. "I'm afraid I'm not--"

He let a tiny belch escape him, and then vomited across his lap. Appalled, he stood clumsily from the table, his last meal still spilling from his lips. He shut his eyes to block out the disgusted look presumably on Randa's face, but he was distracted by the splattering sounds against the tile and the sounds of several chairs scooting back away from their tables.

When he looked up, his father had stood and backed away several paces from him. This explained why Raffin had heard other chairs and people milling about. Too bad he was too busy heaving his guts to contemplate the formalities of the court.

He gave a final hiccup and sucked in a shuddering breath. He stood for a moment trying to catch his breath, and then awkwardly excused himself to his rooms.

Before he even entered his rooms, the sounds of retching were already audible. Clutching at his midsection, Raffin slowly stumbled inside. The sight of his sitting room sofa was more than inviting, but down the hall, Bann vomited again, leaving Raffin no other choice but to check up on his friend.

He found Bann sprawled on the floor, doubled over a chamber pot. At Raffin's approach, Bann turned to him, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. His face was pale and sweaty.

"I'll always hate you for this," Bann muttered. He groaned and leaned forward.

Raffin smiled and probably would have laughed, but he had the distinctive feeling that he was going to be sick again. He staggered towards Bann and relinquished his stomach the last of his meal. Bann was close to follow.

\--

An hour later, a healer came into Raffin's rooms. Both he and Bann had finished being sick long ago and were planning on spending the rest of the evening resting and recuperating from the effects of the infusion. Raffin laid unmoving in his bed, while Bann dozed on the sofa.

Raffin peeled his eyes open groggily at the healer's touch to his arm. He knew instantly that Randa had only sent her to keep up the pretense that he cared and would not let his only heir suffer at the hands of some vomiting sickness. 

"Lord Prince," the girl said, carefully, before she began her examination.

The healer girl, whose name currently escaped Raffin, evaluated his condition and tended to him to the best of her knowledge and ability. Raffin purposefully forget to mention that this was all due to another one of his experiments; it seemed that Randa had never truly forgiven Raffin for his blue hair, so Raffin found it easier for everyone if he just kept his hobbies to himself.

"Are you currently experiencing any abdominal pain, Prince Raffin?"

"My muscles are a little sore there," Raffin admitted. 

Honestly, he hadn't hurt this badly since their first Council victory several years ago and Katsa and Bann had taken him out to celebrate. Then there was the time before that when he turned the legal drinking age. He groaned, rolling over onto his back.

"Any fever?"

Raffin shook his head. "How is Bann?"

"Your health proceeds that of others, I'm afraid. King Randa requests an update on your well-being as soon as possible."

"Amelia," Raffin said, the girl's name coming to him just then. "Surely the king can wait another five minutes?"

"No. I have my orders."

Raffin knew from the hours that he spent with the castle's healers that Amelia was great at what she did. One of the best, considering her age. But she was stubborn, this Raffin remembered. And he hated it too.

"Please don't make me use my authority over you."

"You cannot overrule a king, Prince Raffin."

Raffin sighed, irritable and tired. "Go then, make your report. But come back immediately. Do you understand?" 

"Of course."

He sighed and listened as Amelia collected her things and left. He had thought that he would be feeling better after having vomited, but he was just plain miserable. His mouth was parched and tasted unpleasantly like his dinner and bile, and his abs throbbed with the unexpected workout he had given them. 

He thought about Bann. This was all his fault; if he wasn't always so receptive of Raffin's ideas then none of this would have happened. Raffin pondered on that theory and chuckled. Bann or no Bann, Raffin would have done this or something just as stupid anyway.

Rolling over, he turned and watched as the sun began to set.

When Raffin opened his eyes, he was puzzled by the coolness in his rooms. It took him several more seconds to realize he must have fallen asleep, which meant the sun must be gone, bringing with it the chilly night air. 

He looked in the direction of his sitting room, listening for any indication of Bann's presence, but all he heard was the restless sound if his own breathing. 

\--

Several hours later, Raffin stirred to the feeling of someone shaking him awake. It was morning and the light streaming in through his window blinded him.

Bann handed him a cup. "Drink this," he said. "It will help the burning in your throat."

Raffin took the offered drink and chugged it greedily, ignoring as some dribbled down his chin. He took a second to swallow and started, yanking the cup away from his face; the water had a strange aftertaste, like something had been mixed inside.

"What is this?" he demanded.

"Water," Bann said. "Mixed with some more of the infusion."

Raffin spluttered angrily and hurled the cup across the room, the cup and the concoction inside be damned. He stared at Bann for several seconds before he was calm enough to find his voice.

"Are you trying to kill me?" he clipped out. "Enjoyed seeing me like this, have you?"

Bann made his way over to Raffin's bed and attempted to sit beside him. 

"Get away from me," Raffin snarled. "I should have your head for this. I trusted you, with everything. That obviously meant nothing to you. I can't believe I could let something like this happen. Randa was right: I let my emotions control every part of my life..."

Bann took advantage of the prince's breathless rant to slowly make his way forward and snake his arms around Raffin's body. Raffin tensed at the touch and immediately stopped talking. Up close, it was easy to see that Bann was also still suffering the effects of the infusion, if his bloodshot eyes and trembling hands were anything to go by.

"Raff," Bann whispered into the other's ear. "Shhh, it's all right." When Raffin leaned into Bann's arms, Bann smiled and continued slowly, "I gave you the infusion, but I modified it."

"Modified? How?"

"I added a hint of chamomile to ease the stomach. It will work, I promise. I've just taken a draught myself."

"You have?"

Bann nodded. "I won't give this to anyone unless I've tested its effectiveness on myself first," he said, quoting Raffin's earlier words.

Raffin smiled.

\--

The healer Amelia had returned sometime later, coaxing Raffin and Bann into some soup. Neither of them cared to put anything in their stomachs, but nor did they care to refuse her. Raffin barely had the energy to order the servants to clean his sick bucket, let alone deal with one of Randa's more persistent healers. Moaning all the while, they had had no choice but to choke down a few mouthfuls of cabbage soup.

Now, however, Raffin could feel it coming, the bubbling from his stomach coupled with the unusual tightening in his throat was an all too familiar feeling at this point. He heaved once, twice, but was relieved when everything managed to stay down. Sitting up, he scrubbed vigorously at his face, feeling horrid.

He swallowed thickly to clear his throat, regretting it instantly when it set off a chain reaction in his body. Sensing the impending doom of gastric rebellion, he threw himself towards his vomit basin, his body awarding him with a torrent of half digested soup pouring forth from his mouth. Midway through, he hiccuped involuntarily, his stomach producing more substance from within. He gasped in between retches, but this particular round seemed heavier than the lasts, and he was having trouble catching his breath around the flood emanating from his insides. He coughed and gagged, tears spilling from his eyes from the force of his heaves. An uncomfortable feeling of lightheadedness began to make itself known, there was a sound like rushing water in his ears, and his heart hammered loudly and painfully inside his chest.

He gave one last shuddering hiccup-heave and choked out a mouthful of bile; there was finally nothing left in his stomach. The vomit swam before his eyes, and Raffin sat back slowly. His head had an odd sensation that it was filled with both cotton and lead, but he managed to get himself to his feet, albeit on very wobbly legs. Had it not been for the sudden arms around his shoulders, Raffin would have crashed back to the floor.

"Easy there," Bann said into his ear.

Raffin blinked. He decided that he must have been on the verge of serious dehydration not to have realized that Bann was beside him or even that he had been about to fall over. He suddenly felt overwhelmingly tired, so he staggered slowly towards his bed, his body leaning heavily on Bann's.

Once in bed, Bann walked around to the other side and climbed in beside him. He held a glass up to Raffin's lips and was not satisfied until Raffin drank every drop of the water offered to him.

"I'm sorry," Bann said quietly. "That seemed awful."

Raffin closed his eyes and said unconvincingly, "I've had the time of my life just now." Remembering the timidness in Bann's voice, he asked seriously, "What are you sorry about?"

"I made you drink the infusion again, even after I swore the chamomile would help."

Raffin smiled. He could kiss Bann if it weren't for his dry, vomit-veiled lips.

"You can't make me doing anything."

"Do not tempt me, Lord Prince." Bann's voice grew deeper and Raffin could hear the smile in his words. 

Raffin groaned as his abdominal muscles constricted painfully.

Suddenly, Bann was serious again. "You need to rest."

He fluffed Raffin's pillows for him, the jostling movement setting off the prince's stomach again. Raffin tried to ignore the nearly overpowering roiling in his gut.

"I don't know if I'm finished yet."

Bann, seeing the green arising back on Raffin's cheeks and hearing the vicious gurgle coming from his belly, jumped off the bed and retrieved a clean basin. He set it on the small table by Raffin's head.

"Just in case," he said. Realizing how tired they both were, he added, "I'm canceling all your appointments and appearances for tomorrow."

"No, you can't do that," Raffin said, although his voice indicated that that's exactly what he wanted Bann to do.

"But I will. Your father and anyone who's anyone at court witnessed how unwell you are, they'll understand."

Raffin nodded. "I received a letter from Katsa two nights ago--she's on her way to the The Middluns."

"Then you'll want to be in top form when she arrives."

A thought suddenly occurred to Raffin. "Bann?" he asked sleepily.

"Hmm?" Bann had taken to playing softly with the tresses of Raffin's hair, which was lulling them both into a state of drowsiness.

"How have you escaped being ill? Surely we've suffered through the same amount of infusion and that horrible soup forced on us by that healer woman."

Raffin felt Bann shrug beside him. "I am no more immune than you, Raff. I have a terrible feeling in my belly now."

Raffin seemed content with that answer and fell into silence. Bann stretched his arms high above them and laid his head down on the pillow beside Raffin's. When he turned to see if the other was comfortable, he saw that Raffin was already asleep. His breathing was shallow and his brows were knit together as though he was in pain. Bann sighed and moved the basin closer--Raffin was sure to need it again, and he was prepared to comfort him in what was bound to be another long night.

**Author's Note:**

> I am complete and utter garbage. I wrote this years ago to see if I could actually manage to write emetophilia. This has been complete forever (though I revise it every now and then) and was just sitting in my Notes on my iPhone. I thought it was finally time to share.


End file.
